


A Den of Serpents

by sadoeuphemist



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadoeuphemist/pseuds/sadoeuphemist
Summary: It's a long eight months to Earth. Two weeks in, and Loki's plotting revolution.





	A Den of Serpents

It's Korg who comes to Thor first about it. "He came asking me advice," Korg says, rubbing the back of his rocky head. "On revolution and all that. Was feeling me out, I think, to see if I was interested. I have to admit, he made a lot of good points."

"Did he?" Thor says, staring out the viewport. There is an entire universe out there, and he is beginning to feel like they have been trapped in orbit, circling some dying star. The worst part is, he's not even surprised. He ought to at least give Loki the benefit of feeling betrayed.

"Yeah," says Korg. "The pointy stabby lady, she was your sister, yeah? The firstborn?" He grimaces. "He made a good point, hereditary monarchies don't really seem like the best basis for governance. Not to say that I'd lead a revolution against you! I mean, I like you, you seem like a decent enough fellow, although maybe I don't think you've got the best sort of temperament, what with your recklessness and your hammer fetish and all that ..." Korg taps his chin. "All right, maybe I would lead a revolution against you," he concedes, "but a peaceful one! Sit-ins, marches, handling out pamphlets, signing petitions, stuff like that." He puts a heavy arm around Thor's shoulder. "You might come down, even. Participate. Engage in a peaceful transition of power."

"I'm grateful you think so much of me," Thor mutters. Korg beams, and pats his shoulder. 

***

In retrospect, Thor thinks, perhaps it had been too much to hope that this could last.

Thor is a reluctant king, a man who makes the hard decisions, a ruler who bears the weight of his crown. But Loki is a savior, invaluable to Asgard these past weeks, moving among the survivors with a newfound industry, keeping the hope of the people alive. He'd brought them an ark, to start with, and that alone might have been enough. But he's gone far beyond that, organizing people into communities, allocating resources, smoothing over conflicts, building a thing that almost seems like a functioning society. It's obvious how the Grandmaster intended this vessel to function: about three-quarters of the of rooms in here are spartan cells, the remainder outfitted with all sorts of luxuries. They've redistributed the resources as best they can, but so much of the tyranny of this place is built into the architecture. It's Loki who's planned out a rotating schedule, Loki who's drawn up plans for a lottery, Loki who's devised a system of tokens the people can earn by doing various tasks aboard the ship, Loki who's turned this into something almost like a game instead of a desperate scrabble for a scrap of human comfort.

It's mere chance, Thor tells himself, that Loki's living in one of the finer rooms on the ship, while Thor himself sleeps in an empty cell. It's for the best. He wouldn't want it any other way. He's got no use for luxury right now, not while so many of his people go without. He is their king. It sets a good example.

"Ah, your highness," Loki says, and makes a mocking bow. There are papers scattered all across his floor: lists of names, schedules, sketches, scraps of poetry. Loki is holding a replica of his horned helm in his hands, turning it this way and that so that it catches the light, comparing it to the real thing. "I might as well mention this while you're here. I'm planning an Asgardian Cultural Festival. A celebration of our way of life."

"You think that's the most pressing matter right now?" Thor sits on the edge of Loki's bed. It's incredibly comfortable, contouring itself perfectly to his ass. He resists the urge to lie down and immediately fall asleep. 

"What else is there?" Loki says, spreading his arms in a flourish. "We're aboard a floating coffin. There's no fields to harvest, no towers to build, no borders to defend, no heroic jaunts for you and those friends of yours to go on. This is Asgard now, everything we've brought and everything we remember. It'll be a mourning, of sorts. A chance for people to come to terms with what they've lost."

 _Those friends of mine are dead_ , Thor thinks, and swallows the thought. Maybe Loki's right again, right enough. "That play of yours," he says instead. "That's going to be part of the festivities?"

"Of course," Loki says. "It's a genre-defining work of modern Asgardian theater. Don't be petty about this."

"Petty," Thor says, and chuckles. He forces himself back to his feet. "I came here because I had a little talk with Korg."

Loki is studying his golden helm, self-satisfied, and his expression does not change. 

"Why are you doing this?" Thor says.

A sneer creeps across Loki's face. "I'm aspiring to better things," he says, and vanishes both helms. "You were right, you were absolutely right, what good is a God of Mischief?" He prods Thor in his chest. "We are refugees, heirs to a ruined kingdom,  and yet there you sit, the king. Is this to be Asgard, a sad mockery with another one-eyed fool on its throne? No, I think not. I think," he says, and leans into Thor's face, "that this is the domain of the God of Anarchy. At each other's throats again, hm, brother? Just like old times."

Thor can't help it. He shouldn't, but he bursts into laughter anyway. "A god of anarchy," he gets out, "holding a cultural festival?"

Loki's face goes rigid, and he wipes a droplet of spit off his cheek. "It's all part of my _scheme_ ," he says through his teeth, "and besides, do you think anarchists are incapable of appreciating the arts?"

"I'm sorry," Thor says, "I am, I honestly am, it's a good scheme, you've got the people on your side," but it's far too late.

"Go and sit back on your throne," Loki snaps. "And I will hold my cultural festival. I will make them remember the glory of Asgard. And I will ask them, who do you want ruling you? A king who betrayed Asgard? A king who set it aflame?" 

"You were the one who set Surtur's crown in the Eternal Flame! With your own hands!"

"Under orders from the king!"

"I never ordered you to do anything! And I wasn't even the king then!"

"I remember it differently," Loki says. "It was a chaotic moment, historians will debate over it, there's more research to be done in that field. Regardless." Thor rolls his eyes. "I will say to them, our king has taken us to Midgard, would have us come crawling to its shores as refugees. He has come to the aid of these mortals, these Avengers, who he values over you. So let us take their lands. Let us reestablish Asgard on their soil. And if they protest, we will say to them, America is not a place. America is a people! And we will cast them out into the seas and we will set their lands ablaze and we will see how America fares!"

"And you think another war will solve anything?" He meets Loki's gaze and the weight of his eyepatch is suddenly heavy on him, this darkness occluding half the world. He feels like a ruin, a marker people stare at to remind themselves of a lost possibility. "More conquest? More blood?"

Loki falters. "I think," he says quietly, "that we are due some disobedience. I think that 'being something more' too often means, 'serving someone else's purpose.' I think that we have been built on war and conquest and blood, and are now being shamed for even considering it. I think that we were promised a kingdom and given the dying throes of one." He looks up at Thor. "I think you don't hate our father nearly enough."

"He - he's dead," Thor says stupidly. He can think of nothing else to say, no other response. Odin, standing against the grass and the blue sky. That surge of power. What is he, after all this? A son? Is that the extent of it?

"I was dead," Loki says. "And you mourned me. You shouldn't have." He rakes his fingers through his hair. "This was the self-serving choice, you know. To return to Asgard a savior. To be beloved by all. The right thing to do would have been to stab you in the back, so at least you'd accept the truth of it." He gestures with his hand and the door slides open. Thor's door doesn't do that. It only locks from the outside. "You should leave. I'm busy." He shuffles through some papers. "I've got a festival to plan."

Thor stands in the doorway. "You really think this is all we are?" he says. "The mistakes that Odin made? The mistakes that we made after him?"

Loki does not look at him. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

***

"We should let Hulk at him," Valkyrie says.

Hulk is still big and burly and green, peevish and sulking around the ship. Banner's fears had proven true. There's no danger here, no need to fight - no room for it, in fact - and yet Hulk remains, slouching through the hallways, crouching through doors, nowhere quite right for him to fit. Loki had tried to turn him back once, by dredging up a memory of Natasha, and then Hulk had punched him halfway through the hull and he'd stopped trying.

This is what their lives are now, this lurching mass of tension. The hope that this is impermanent, that one day their fists will unclench, some emotion will come rushing loose, and things will go back to normal. The fear that things will be this way forever.

"We're not letting Hulk at him," says Thor.

"It'd cheer him up," says Valkyrie. "There's nothing for him to do aboard this ship."

Thor sighs.  "I don't suppose you've seen anything of his plans?" he says to Heimdall.

"I have talked with him," Heimdall says delicately. "And I don't support this power grab at all. But he made a good point that, given our current circumstances, it's important for people to feel that they at least a modicum of privacy, that they can live their lives crammed into this ship without the fear of me looking in on them."

"Why are you listening to him?" Valkyrie says. "You know the moment he seizes power, he'll come up with some equally convincing spiel about how these are perilous times and how it's important for you to use your powers to keep everyone safe!" She looks around the table in frustration. "Why do any of you ever listen to him? Just punch him when he starts to talk! Just punch him in the mouth! It'd make all your lives so much easier!"

There are so many things he could do, Thor thinks, and in the end they would all be so easy. There have been more than enough concerned citizens coming to him by now, repeating rumors about Loki's plans. There are the little alliances, the little nexuses of power. He could cancel the festival. He could declare Loki a traitor. He could make a grand speech to all of Asgard. He could have Loki arrested, thrown in the brig. He could use his royal influence to ensure that the festival failed. He could set Hulk loose. He could break Loki, with his bare hands. He has lightning running through his veins, he has thunder beating in his heart. He is the king. He is a god. He is the storm. He is his father's son.

Thor rises from the table. "I'm going to go wish him luck," he says.

***

Stepping into the cargo bay is like stepping into a memory. It's like waking up, and thinking, for a moment, that this has all been a bad dream. A good deal of magic, an extended illusion, some cleverly crafted props, and this is Asgard, gleaming and gold, the kingdom and the castle and the conquest. It's a deception that puts the lie to his claim: Asgard is not a people, not a people alone. There is so much that they have lost. There is so much they are still missing.

Loki is surrounded by people, flitting from one group to the next, directing them with swift gestures of his hands. A dancing troupe must mark out their places, there are curtains yet to be hung, paintings to be displayed. There's a distinct change in the mood as Thor approaches. People are apprehensive, overly obsequious, glancing at Loki to see his reaction.

"Could we talk?" Thor says. "In private?"

Loki smirks at him and waves his coterie away. "All right, yes, you all can do without me for five minutes. Siriana, you've got to keep everything on schedule, all right? Our king requires my presence." He leads Thor off to one side and ducks behind a wooden backdrop and they are alone. There's no illusion left backstage, just the dull gray walls of the Grandmaster's ship. 

"They do all realize you're also royalty?" Thor says, jabbing a thumb behind them.

Loki shrugs guilelessly. "I am here in my humble role as a patron of the arts and a servant of the people. If they should happen to think that my public service qualifies me for greater power, well..."  He shoots a sharp glance at Thor. "What is it you came to say?"

They will tell here the myth of Asgard, the myth of Loki. How easy it would be to trace the trajectory of Loki's life backwards and conclude he was self-serving from the start, that everything he has done for Asgard was simply another power play, another manipulation. How easy to believe that the thing was tainted at the core, that the only way to find redemption was to destroy the thing in fire. What will it take to make these myths die? And after their deaths, what will be left of them?

"I think it's an amazing thing you've done here," Thor says, "and I believe in you. God of Anarchy and all. And I think you need to stop looking to me to oppose you."

"Oppose me," Loki sneers. "That's all you think this is. Mindless opposition. The scorpion following its nature."

Thor blinks. "A scorpion? No, I don't - I've never thought of you as a scorpion." 

"The scorpion and the frog!" Loki says irritably. "Of course, you think I'm the scorpion in this scenario."

Thor shakes his head slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The scorpion and the frog! The scorpion wants to cross a river and the frog gives it a ride - How can you not have heard of it, it perfectly summarizes our relationship!"

"You can't expect me to know every Midgard saying -"

"It means you think that's all I am! No initiative of my own. That it's in my nature to betray you. And you're the patient, benevolent king stooping down on bended knee urging with me to be better, to do better -"

"I think you were scared," Thor says.

Loki glares at him.

"Like Valkyrie was," Thor continues. "Trying to drink her life away. Thinking that - as long as she stayed in Sakaar forever, nothing would catch up with her. I should have given you that much credit, at least. You were scared. Scared like I am.

"I mean it." Thor's hand comes up and ghosts over his eyepatch. "Our father's dead. Asgard's in ruins. Everything we believed about Asgard has been tainted. I'm king, and I don't know what that means. None of us - We all had our visions of the future, of what we were supposed to be and what we were supposed to do and what was supposed to happen. And that's all gone now. And there's no more point rebelling against it, or trying to spite it, or whatever. We've got to build something for ourselves now. And you _have_. You always have been. Better than I could!" Thor pushes the backdrop aside an inch, and gestures through the crack. "Look at them! You made an Asgardian Cultural Festival! We're floating in the depths of space in a ship stolen from a mad dictator because our entire world was destroyed in fire, and you've got them putting on costumes and singing songs and putting on your stupid play!

"I - I think my future's back on Earth. In Midgard. Whatever it may be. And I've been running to it. Trying to avoid coming face to face with what my people need, right here, right now. Maybe you are right. Maybe we do need a revolution. Maybe we can do better than a king, maybe we can do better than a kingdom. But whatever it is you're making here, you can't just start lashing out at people again. You can't take the easy way out." He edges forward and puts his hands on Loki's shoulders. "I don't think you want more war. I don't think you want more violence. I don't think you want to work up more resentment just for the sake of it. You can do better. And I'm not sitting up on a throne and extending my hand down to you. I'm saying I believe in you. I want to help you. And if you are ready to lead, I am ready to follow."

Loki is still, his breathing shallow, and he does not meet Thor's eye. A silence runs between them.

"This would have been so much easier," he says at last, "if you'd just heard of the damn parable. You're not supposed to trust the scorpion, that's the whole moral of it!"

"You're no scorpion," Thor says, throwing his arms around his brother and pressing a sloppy kiss to his temple. Loki squirms, but does not pull away. "A snake, maybe. I love snakes." 

"This is going to be so much work," Loki sighs.

The world has ended. The world is just beginning.


End file.
